


creep (watching from the sidelines)

by whitherwaywill



Series: within the confines of canon [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Sad, no happy ending for traitors, pettigrew is jealous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23488018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitherwaywill/pseuds/whitherwaywill
Summary: peter pettigrew wants to be their friend, but he's always just been watching from the sidelines.
Series: within the confines of canon [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739902
Kudos: 7





	creep (watching from the sidelines)

It was ridiculous. They were a group of four, for goodness’ sake. Peter shouldn't feel this left out, this alone, when he was with his friends.

Nevertheless, here he was. The fourth wheel to a deformed, three-wheeled bike. It turned his stomach, watching them laugh and joke together.

The Marauders were the unquestioned kings of Gryffindor. And not a day went by that Peter wasn’t grateful for the good luck that placed him in their dormitory, that very first year.

He was grateful. Yes. Grateful.

As they walked down the halls, students parted like the Red Sea. James walked at the point, Lily blushing next to him. People passing by whistled and gasped. Everyone was familiar with what had seemed like James’ futile quest to win Lily’s heart. Now they were finally official, and those who knew of the drama were still shocked when the pair pranced by.

Sirius and Remus walked slightly behind the happy couple. Sirius bounded in circles around Remus, who was trying in vain to prevent the other boy from stealing his bag.

Peter didn’t even notice as he slowed, then stopped, walking. He was staring off after his friends. A part of him was waiting for them to stop, too. In his mind’s eye, he could see it clearly.

_James turned over his shoulder, an offhand comment dying on his lips as he noticed his intended audience was missing. He frowned, and stopped abruptly, tugging Lily to a stop with him. Remus narrowly avoided a head-on collision, steering Sirius around the couple before coming to a stop as well._

_“Hey, Moony, where’s Peter?” James asked, his eyes scanning the hall for the shortest Marauder._

_“He was right here…” Remus said. James didn’t respond. His eyes lit up as he saw Peter, stopped a little ways behind him._

_“Hey, Pete!” He called out. “Catch up!”_

_Peter grinned, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and running towards his friends…_

Peter was jolted out of his daydream quite literally when a greasy-haired boy slammed into him.

“Watch where you’re walking,” the boy spat darkly.

“W-watch where you’re walking, Sev – Sni – Snivellus,” Peter retaliated hesitantly. He had never had to deal with any of the Slytherins alone before – or at least, not in the past year.

The sallow-skinned boy sneered down at Peter. Even with his terrible posture, Snape loomed over Peter’s short, rotund frame. Peter scowled, trying to mask the tremble in his upper lip. He nervously glanced in the direction of the other Marauders, but they were too far down the hall to notice his predicament.

“Not so brave without your little friends around, are you,” Severus sneered. He curled his lip, following Peter’s gaze. Peter flinched away as the Slytherin’s eyes narrowed, focusing in on James’ arm, wrapped around Lily’s shoulders.

“Back off, Snape,” Peter said quietly. He puffed out his shoulders, proud of how he suppressed the tremble in his voice.

Snape’s sneer didn’t fade as he returned his attention to Peter. In fact, it grew.

“You still don’t realise,” he snickered bitterly. Shaking his head, he moved a step closer to Peter. Even in that small movement, his robes billowed outward like a bat’s wings. “You follow them around like a lost puppy. You stare at Potter and Black like they’re _special_ , like they hung the stars and the moon in the sky, but you _still don’t get it.”_

“G - get away from me, c - creep,” Peter stuttered. He glanced nervously around him, but no one was paying attention. As always, he was invisible.

Peter took another step back, but Snape matched his pace, hovering menacingly over the shorter boy.

“I’m the creep?” Severus’ voice was a knife’s edge, smooth and brittle and dangerous. “You call me the creep, the weirdo, for what? Watching from the sidelines?”

Peter couldn’t meet Severus’ blackhearted scowl.

“If I’m a creep,” Severus snarled, “what are you?”

With that, the other boy whirled around. His robes flailed around him as he stalked down the hallway, shoving through the masses of students.

Peter was left frozen in the middle of the hall, Severus’ words echoing in his ears.

The other Marauders had stopped a little ways down the hall, horsing around with a group of Gryffindors.

Watching from the sidelines, Peter could feel a cold trickle of _something_ slide into his heart.

Peter shoved the ice-cold feeling of resentment and despair away, pushing into the corners where he hid all his deepest, darkest fears.

He cheered at graduation. He was there, wide-eyed and innocent and righteous as all the Marauders and their friends were inducted into the Order of the Phoenix.

And that icy cold in the corners of his heart grew.

He watched Lily and James get married, with Sirius as the best man. He watched them make plans for their future, with Remus as their permanent house guest. He heard of impromptu dinner parties he had never been invited to, because he hadn’t been there when the invitation to “stay for dinner” was issued.

Then, one day, Peter was on a mission. Peter was on a mission alone, a mission assigned to him _alone_ by Dumbledore, of some small importance that seemed imperative at the time.

And Peter fell right into the hands of the Dark Lord.

Peter came face to face with the great evil, his worst nightmare, bound and bowed and sniveling at the monster’s feet.

Blubbering, Peter tried desperately to think of what Remus would do. Of what Sirius would do. Of what James would do.

Peter didn’t even know the Dark Lord was in his head until that cold bitterness rose up inside him. He stiffened with a gasp.

“Ah,” the Dark Lord crooned softly. “You don’t belong there, Peter Pettigrew. They don’t value you.” The man took a step closer, a pale finger tracing along Peter’s jaw. “We have a place for you here...Wormtail.”

Receiving the Dark Mark was the worst pain Peter had ever felt.

But it burned away the icy cold.

A year later, Peter was invited to a baby shower.

The invitation came as a shock. Not because he didn’t know Lily was pregnant (although James hadn’t been the one to tell him). No, it was a surprise because by that point, Peter had stopped receiving frequent invitations to the Potters’ home.

It was easy to forget how special James Potter was when Peter didn’t spend most of his time in the man’s company.

When he arrived at the party, James greeted him at the door, a huge smile on his face as he hugged Peter.

“Wormtail!” he exclaimed. “It’s been too long. Why haven’t you been over lately?”

“I’ve been...busy,” Peter said grudgingly. “And I wasn’t invited. I’m surprised I was invited to _this_ gathering.”

“Of course we invited you, Peter!” James said blithely. It didn’t seem he had actually heard Peter talk, his eyes scanning the room instead. “You’re one of my best friends.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder with a bright, angelic grin. Turning, he made his way back to his pregnant wife.

Peter stood in the corner. Suddenly, he was reminded of all those days at Hogwarts where he watched, given the menial tasks, taking the blame. Clapping his hands for feats he was never brave enough to perform himself. Taking whatever tidbits of attention he could get.

Peter stood in the corner like a creep, like the weirdo he was in this group of brave fools, for ten minutes.

Then, he made his way to the door, and quietly let himself out.

He was almost at the apparition point when he heard a shout behind him.

“Oi! Pettigrew!”

Swiveling, Peter saw James galloping toward him. Peter didn’t stop moving to the apparition point, walking backwards.

“Leaving already?” James said, slowing to a jog.

“I’m...not feeling well,” Peter lied.

“Oh, that’s a pity,” James sighed. “We were hoping you’d be here when we announced who’s to be the godfather.”

“The godfather?” Peter repeated blankly. James gazed at him with that timeless grin. Surely...surely he must mean Peter was to be the child’s godfather, if -

“Of course!” James said. “We need _someone_ to get Sirius’ reaction on tape. I bet Remus that he’d pass out, once we told him he’s the third parent.”

“Oh.” Peter cursed himself for allowing that tiny hope, that tiny voice inside that still wanted James Potter’s approval, to grow for even a minute. “Well. Sorry I can’t be of service. I must be off. Don’t want to puke over Lily’s garden.”

Peter couldn’t meet James’ eyes as he took a step backwards, over the invisible ward-line. With a sharp crack, he apparated away.

That night, Peter Pettigrew gave up the Potters’ location to the Dark Lord.

**Twelve Years Later...**

The boy had Lily’s eyes. And James’ face.

It had been two months, and Peter still couldn’t get that face out of his mind. That’s why he had returned to Godric’s Hollow. To remind himself that James wasn’t the angel Peter remembered.

Peter stared down at James’ grave. The years had not been kind to the pudgy, short boy. After spending so long in his Animagus form, the man was beginning to take on some of its traits. He was wearing an ill-fitting, ragged coat. His hair was greasy, rivaling that of Severus Snape’s. His nose twitched, not unlike a rat, matching his oversized front teeth.

“I was your best friend,” Peter said hollowly. He could feel his nonexistent tail twitching along with his nose. The wind whipped unforgivingly across the clearing, rustling through the snow. It was almost Christmas. Once upon a time, that would have meant packing to go home. Watching James and Sirius plan a vacation, full of excitement. Watching Remus’ book get torn away, the other two boys gleefully including their third in their capers.

Once upon a time, Peter would’ve laughed awkwardly, ever the willing audience. The shadow to James’ light.

“I was your best friend,” Peter repeated. There was no emotion in his voice as he looked down at the one last reminder of his friend. His friend. He stubbornly clung to that word, that identity, even as the hollow feeling growing in his chest reminded him that it wasn’t true. That it hadn’t been true, for a long, long time now. Peter had been James’ friend. James had been Peter’s friend.

His friend, who he killed.

Even in death, James was beyond him.

Peter was still watching from the sidelines. He was still a creep.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a while ago, and i no longer agree with the sentiment. pettigrew's betrayal was so awful because he WAS their friend, he was a part of the group - he was someone james potter would die for.


End file.
